


Cauldron Drown Me

by aqueentorattlestars



Series: ACOTAR Halloween [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Cauldron, F/M, Gen, Nessian - Freeform, halloween acotar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-01-08 12:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12254550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqueentorattlestars/pseuds/aqueentorattlestars
Summary: The Inner Circle is at a Halloween party. All goes well until Nesta stumbles upon something that severely upsets her. She tries to leave early but is stopped by a concerned Cassian.





	1. Chapter 1

All Hallow’s Eve had been a night meant for celebration. Fun. A chance for a court t enjoy the simple things in life—a chance for residents of Velaris to take part in age-old traditions of masked faces, glittering costumes,  candied apples, and children daring to be anything they wished. A wish to be a violet-eyed High Lord or a High lady that had saved them all. A chance to be an Illyrian commander or a shadowsinger of a spymaster, wings fashioned from gossamer and wire sprouting from tiny backs.

Cassian and Rhysand had started the night with an ego-boosting wager: a bet on how many of the faerie children would be impersonating them. What they had not anticipated in their bet, however, was the overwhelming amount of children who had opted to dress in a brilliant array of crimsons, golds, and oranges paired with a fiery span of wings. Amren. Gleefully, she had lightened their pockets and claimed her winnings (the Illyrians had tried to argue, but all it took was a single look from the tiny ancient one for them to concede).

The dainty laughter of the Inner Circle’s females floated in the cool night air. Another joke had been made at the expense of Rhys and Cas and the pair tried to argue back against the ruthless teasing of the awe-inspiring trio that was Feyre, Amren, and Morrigan. The males did not stand a chance against the females’ unified force.  
  
From a distance, Nesta hid in an alcove as the party went on around her. An apprehensive look was cast in the direction of the group; torn between remaining hidden or approaching the close-knit Inner Circle. Propriety told her that she should _try_ to take part in the festivities. She should _attempt_ to become a part of the family she and Elain had been adopted into by default. Yet… A heart so guarded raged against the weakness in sharing. This was a night for strange things to be afoot. And it had been quiet this day… Too quiet. The calm before the storm, no doubt. Intuition whispered in the High Fae’s ear that something was doomed to happen. Something was lying in wait to pounce on the hellcat when she least expected it. No. Nesta Archeron would not give them the opportunity to ridicule her this night. Quietly, she would stay hidden. Nothing more than a shadow against a wall while pairs waltzed, drank, and feasted on the festive hors d’oeuvres. She preferred it this way.  

The vast hall was alive with electricity for the night. A cacophony of laughter and squeals of children interrupted the dreamy way the music floated amongst the high-vaulted ceilings. Her eyelids were shut tightly, Nesta blocking out the distractions and concentrating solely on that music. The melody had eased her nerves, coupled with the wine she had been savoring.   
  
Eyes of sapphire pools – that at one time or another resembled sparkles dancing across still water—snapped open when a giggling, young couple had stumbled upon Nesta’s hiding spot.  Stuttered apologies were made but, like a queen, Nesta ignored them. The tranquility had been ruined and she had no desire to remain anywhere near that utter nonsense.  The very tip of her finger traced around the rim of her cup as she stalked away, circling the entire thing before gripping the base of the cup to take a hearty swig of the red wine. It was in passing that she noticed her reflection in the mirror and caused Nesta a momentary pause while she registered how she looked in the costume Feyre had insisted she wear. It was as if one were in the presence of a goddess's mortal body, walking through her room with the grace and beauty equivalent to that of a deity. Her feminine physique was presented with boldness. The cloth that hung worshipfully about her was of a fine quality, warm enough to not take chill in this autumn weather and deliciously smooth. The outfit was that of Night Court fashion with a summer’s flare. The fabric was twined together at the right shoulder, making a thin strap. The left sleeve drooped below her other shoulder. The cloth swooped low, exposing much of the engima’s back. A faint blush had crept onto her high-boned cheeks gracefully when she had caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. It was so… Risqué. Star’s Kiss, Feyre had called her. Nesta felt like anything but that. Or like a whore on display to be mocked and gawked.  

Tomas flashed through her mind. Of an attempt made.  
She should have been clothed more. Men and males. They were one in the same when it came to predatory intent.  
Nesta refrained from shuddering and, instead, she threw back the rest of her wine. Dismissing her thoughts completely—she had been amongst the fae in the Night Court long enough to know better. To know that Rhysand tolerated nothing of the sort amongst his subjects. The penalty for such crimes within Velaris was high.  
  
The eldest Archeron steeled her face and walked quickly from the mirror, intent to refill her cup if she were to survive the rest of this eve.

With her mission of alcohol successful, Nesta had gone to find another corner to hide in as the night trudged on. Her search led her towards the massive balcony, idly wandering and looking at the sights there were beheld. Children gathered around a certain area, giggling and waiting impatiently for their turn at some game. Curiosity crooked a teasing finger, dragging the female towards the area to see what the fuss was about.  
  
She approached within eight paces of the circle of children when Nesta froze.  Her glass of wine falling to the floor, shattering and splattering her dress with droplets of burgundy.

  
Her face blanched as her eyes rested on what could only be described as a horror from her nightmares. Color returned to her face in a matter of seconds as angry red stained her cheeks, “What is that?”  
  
She did not need to yell to be heard. Her voice a lethal, frightened whisper was enough to cause all within the vicinity to stop and stare at the trembling Nesta.

A little girl—brave and innocent in her confusion—patiently explained to the terrifying beauty, “I-It’s a Cauldron. You bob for apples. Y-you can only use your teeth to try and get the apple. It’s fun.”

  
The girl’s words fell on deaf ears as Nesta was flung back into a hell she had tried to escape for so long.  
  
_Black liquid filled her nose, lungs, ears, eyes. Searing, burning, dissolving. It burned flesh from bone; muscle and tendons exposed as the water filtered into every pore that was Nesta. Pain unlike any other imaginable had consumed her—it was teeth gnashing, wailing, the voices of a million souls screaming in her mind and yet, absolute silence. She opened her mouth to scream—but no sound came out. Great and terrible things floated in front of her field of vision. All the earth’s knowledge poured into her brain, sung a song of making over her. The threads of her essence were severed, left frayed and dangling as the Cauldron worked its magic over her. Any trace of humanity was eliminated. Slowly, it begun to weave magic and flesh together. Fae._

 _The Cauldron wanted her soft and compliant during its work._  
  
She was not. In that inky blackness where time had no relevance, Nesta waged war against a power greater than any mankind had faced before. Alone, she stared down that ancient monster. It was wicked and cunning; cruel and unrelenting. Ah. But she was more so. Rabid, she fought. And won. A thief in the night, Nesta took what did not belong to her. A valiant fuck you as flesh was made new.

_Her life was going to hell. And she would do everything she could to take the Cauldron with her._

“L-Lady Nesta?” the child asked, fearfully reaching out to touch Nesta’s hand that was  clutched at her side.  
  
Nesta jerked from the child in instinct, staggering back several steps away from the cauldron before she alas turned tail and ran from the demons that tried to drag her back down to that black nothingness. It wanted her dead. The Cauldron still demanded her life for what she stole.  
  
It should have drowned her.  
It should have killed her.  
Better than to be reduced to this—a quivering coward in the face of water.

Fate determined it best she stay alive.  
  
Nesta ran—pushing past males and females, not bothering with apologies or excuse mes as she shoved. She needed to get out of there. She needed to be free. Far, far, far away from that Cauldron.  
  
From the other side of the hall, Cassian had noted the commotion. Had scented her fear. He moved before he knew what was happening, slipping between crowds to see the flash of white racing away. A princess fleeing at the stroke of midnight—leaving nothing to be traced.    
  
He caught up to Nesta quickly, catching her by the arm only to have his goddess of death turn on him.  
  
“Don’t you dare touch me!” she lashed, her voice absolutely deadly in deliverance, “You did this, didn’t you? You thought it was some hilarious joke, didn’t you? Or was it Morrigan? She’s hated me from the beginning. Well, fuck you.” Her voice was ragged as Nesta said, “Fuck all of you!”

The flush in her cheeks, the fire in her voice. In the fading light she seemed to shimmer and glow like a phoenix in flame. Head haloed by her hair of burnished gold, and that damned dress hugging her body, the life, the spirit in her voice and expression... It was appealing, it was arousing. It was purely Nesta, the  Enigma, Surreal Beauty, the wildcat, gleaming with all of her glorious rage against a fiery sunset, one that seemed so much brighter than moments before.  
  
Her hair spilled about her shoulders in an ethereal glow, brushing over her forearms as the woman turned to take the flight of stairs that let her escape from the festivities. Cassian followed after, not letting Nesta escape when she was in such a state.  
  
“Nesta, wait,” he said, following her into the dark library. The library that had become her sanctuary since coming to Velaris.   
  
Silver lined her eyes as she turned onto Cas, losing control of her composure while she trembled, “The cauldron. Why? Why a cauldron of all things?!”  
  
Realization settled deep in his bones. Oh Gods.  
“Nesta,” he said again.  
  
She stepped away from him again, evading contact, “None of you know. None of you know what it was like. How long I was there. What it felt like. You don’t know. You never will.”  
  
“Nesta,” he said, voice softening. Cas took a step forward.  
  
“I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve learned I’ll never belong here. I understand it. Tell your High Lord that—tell him his message was made clear.” Her back was against the books now. “I wanted it to happen as much as all of you did; that cauldron should have drowned me. Free everyone of Nesta, queen bitch.”  
  
“Nesta.. Nesta” Cassian closed the gap. Hazel eyes looking down at that beautiful face that had tears streaking down it. His arms wrapped around her, gently, soothingly.  
  
She did not fight him. The human-turned-fae crumpled against the Illyrian’s chest, gripping onto the collar of his shirt as a sob racked through her frame. Only in private would she allow this. Only in front of him.  
  
Protectively, Cassian pulled her from the books and held her to him. Wings wrapping around them while scar-flecked hands stroked her hair, “I’m sorry. I’m here.” Lips brushed against the top of her head as he murmured again, “I love you, Nesta… I love you.”

Broken and afraid, Nesta said, “Don’t let me go.”


	2. Cauldron Save Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inner Circle is at a Halloween party. All goes well until Nesta stumbles upon something that severely upsets her. She tries to leave early but is stopped by a concerned Cassian. Nesta does not want to be left alone and Cassian offers to take her away from the party and to his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the longest time, I had this idea gnawing at me to add a second part to Cauldron Drown Me... so, my dear friends, I present you with this. With a third installment to come later.

_“Don’t let me go,”_ she had pleaded in a terror that had torn his heart asunder.

Shielding her from the world with the safety of mighty wings, Cassian was only certain of one thing in his life: nothing could have ripped him from Nesta in that moment.

Tears soaked through the front of his shirt, ruining the silk as Nesta tried to sail through wave after uncontrollable wave of emotion. Hands that had been made for war became tools of empathy. Cassian, ever gentle in his approach, cupped the back of her neck and held her in place to his shoulder. He buried his face in her silken hair and whispered calming words into her ear.

An anchor.  
He became her anchor in this stormy sea of trauma; a place for her to shelter in as her strength crumbled into nothing.  
  
Minutes passed in silent marching, the approaching hour only announced by the soft chime of the library’s clock. Her sobbing had quieted when the half hour had tolled out brightly in the vacant room.

The female shifted in his arms, angling her face enough to look into the dark face that loomed over her. In his eyes, she saw the world; of all the warmth it could still offer if she only had the courage to step out in faith. 

Nesta’s soul surged forward, wanting to throw itself at the feet of this Illyrian that had both vexed and wooed her. Just as she thought she might finally give herself over to the male—a tether yanked her spirit back. Fear nagged and whispered in her ear; _trust no one_.

Obedient to that fear, she retreated back into the walls that was her heart.  
Instead of the kiss she wanted to give, Nesta eased into a timid hug, peeking through the wing membranes that curtained her from the rest of the room.  
  
The room that had become her haven during her stay… The room that held every single one of her friends. Hundreds of characters she had held close to her chest—daring to imagine a life beyond this sorrow.  Her greatest treasures tucked neatly into the pages bound together by covers of every hue.  
  
Here, inside this room, she was allowed to _dream._

Cassian watched her face patiently as Nesta looked around the cocoon he had enveloped them in. A thumb brushed against the length of her neck as she finally brought her eyes to look upon him again. The kohl that had lined her eyes had smudged—but yet the blemish could not diminish the beauty that she held.    
  
Soothing, he continued to caress the column of her throat sweetly. Cas held nothing but concern for Nesta as he asked gently, “Do you want me to bring a blanket and pillow for you?” He knew better than to ask to take her to her room… Not when it was in the library that she found peace.  
  
Full lips parted to answer but stopped as music and laughter filtered through—carrying from the party that was being held. Had she been human, the sound would have never reached her ears… But these bloody Fae senses were determined to drive her to madness.  
  
Blue eyes closed as she shook her head, focusing on deep, cleansing breaths as the eldest of the sisters finally offered an answer to his question, “I can’t stay here.”

The Commander leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers and held her face in his hands as he murmured, “I can take you to my home… If you would want?” A thought crossed his mind, at how it could sound to Nesta, and Cassian found himself adding on quickly, “I’ll stay with Azriel for the night. I won’t impede on your privacy.”

Too drained to argue, the wildcat rested in the peace that his presence gave her and said, “Please.”  
  
As if she were made of porcelain, the male scooped Nesta into his arms. For the first time in her life, she did not protest. Instead, Nesta turned her face into the warmth of his frame. One chaste kiss to her forehead had Nesta’s lips gracing a ghost of a smile.  
  
Silent, Cas carried her through the empty corridors until at last they stepped outside. His arms tightened around her before he took flight. It was a lofty, slow pace—careful to not unsettle her even more than was necessary.

 

His apartment was exactly what she had expected. Clean. Neat. Without clutter. A warrior’s quarters. Had Nesta been more stable in her emotions, she might have ventured to peruse the few decorations that the male had.  
  
Yet, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed.  
  
Cassian had slipped into a back room, lighting the room for Nesta and providing an extra blanket lest she get cold during the night. Clearing his throat, the male spoke, “The bedroom is back here… You’re welcome to anything. There’s another blanket in the closet, if the two is not enough… Food, drink. It’s yours. I’ll be over in the morning to check on you… Around nine? If that’s not too early for you. I’ll, um… Be going now.” He sounded as awkward as a teen admitting love to their first crush.

Unsettled at the thought of spending the night alone—no, not just alone… But away from _him--_   Nesta reached out to grab his hand. Her fingers finding the spaces in his hand, she looked up at him, “Stay? I… I don’t want to be let go.”  
  
_Don’t trust anyone_.

The fear of letting someone in had once consumed her life.  
Yet…  
No one had fought to find a place in her heart as Cassian had.  
  
It was time to let fear go.  
  
Her voice quivered as Nesta asked, “Hold me tonight?”

Understanding flooded over Cassian’s face as he nodded, “As you wish.” _I’ll hold you every night for the rest of my immortal life if you would let me._

Guiding her back to the bedroom, Cassian settled into the space of the bed next to Nesta. His arms opened up—providing her the choice on if this was what she wanted—and he was rewarded with the tenderness of her embrace. Again, a kiss was given to the top of her head.  
  
A distant memory of an adopted mother singing him to sleep spurred Cassian on with his next act. Holding her to his chest, he had started to sing—low and gentle, a lullaby in the tongue of the Illyrians.

Surprised by the song, Nesta listened to the beautiful baritone as it strung words of a lullaby together like pearls on a string. She wanted to weep at the beauty of the words; but, instead, held strong while her relaxation slipped her ever closer to the land of dreams.   
  
Enchanted.   
That was the exact word to describe the state of Nesta Archeron as she was lulled by his singing voice, listening to words she did not understand—but despite not knowing their meaning, they still spoke to her very soul. They embraced her, caressed the fire within, and soothed whatever rages it might have been building. Vulnerable, she let down her guard and let emotion run freely. Serenity covered Nesta as her own arms circled around the hardened warrior in the sweetest of cuddles.   
  
As the room fell silent, the last echoes of the lullaby fading out, Nesta whispered, “Beautiful.” With her head nestled in the secret place of his chest, sleep finally claimed the fae.

And for the first time in a very, very long time… Nightmares did not plague her. No. Only the sweetest of dreams brushed her consciousness while slumber consumed the beauty. 

\------

 

If it had not been for the movement next to her, she would have slept the entire morning away.   
  
As Cassian stretched, Nesta reached more for him in her sleep state. Silently beckoning, begging for them to stay in the throes of dreamworld for just a little bit longer. It was with a sleep yawn, however, that she finally began to rouse. She smiled at the feel of being tangled up next to Cassian in a perfectly innocent embrace.

Thick eyelashes tickled the tops of her cheeks while her eyes opened to the light of day. Slowly, her mind started to recall the nights events; dancing and laughing and a cauldron… Strong arms grabbing and holding her. Flying. A lullaby… And a sense of belonging that had not been experienced before.

Here, in his bed—she knew she was welcomed. Knew that what had occurred last night was far more meaningful than a desperate cry for help. Barriers had been broken down between their two hearts and a common ground was found. Souls revealed in ways that rarely, if ever, had been done.   
  
Whether he was aware of it or not, she belonged to him now. A heart she had thought too jaded to feel again… Had started to beat with an array of emotions unique to the woman. A heart that had been offered to Cassian—an offering Nesta would refuse to ever take back.  
  
Awake, Nesta stretched her toned limbs and sighed happily at the worshipful caresses of her back. The smile, warm and open, pinned itself onto her face as Cassian had begun to brush his finger tips over each delicate curve of her face.  
  
“Good morning,” he said, thumb resting gently on her chin as he asked, “Are you okay?”   
  
A small hand came to rest against his upper torso, her finger tips soft against the flesh.  And Nesta considered his question; contemplating on her state after the horrors of the night. Deciding to continue with the trend of honesty, Nesta answered truthfully, “Better… But not great.”  She curled herself into him, tucking her head underneath his chin as she breathed out, “I don’t want to be around people today. I don’t want to see them.” Them. Meaning her sisters who had been just as confused as the rest of the court had been.

“Can I take you somewhere?” he asked, thumb brushing over her cheek.   
  
Her answer was in the kiss she pressed to his cheek


End file.
